Differnces
by IF3R
Summary: A small taster of what I hope to be a good story! Please read it, if you do it would seriously make my day if you'd click Review and write a comment, positive/negative I need both! Can't write summerys for the life of me!


What to do when you're bored. Nothing really. When you're bored everything you do is boring and everything anyone else does is annoying. So why not do nothing? No, that never works either. When you're bored everything you don't do is boring and everything anyone else doesn't do is annoying. The simple answer is that there is simply nothing interesting you can do when you're bored. Absolutely nothing. Well if you don't count trying _not_ to be bored but as others may or may not know, that doesn't work much either.

Christina Blake was just realising this. How could she have lived all sixteen years, six months and nineteen days of her life (with her birthday being on the thirtieth of October) and have not known that being bored was simply; boring. It wasn't as if she hadn't been bored before. Now that _would_ have been stupid. And a total lack of experience. She clearly remembered being bored at least a dozen times this year alone but yet the fact still remained that she hadn't realised this annoying matter up until this second. She contemplated why she hadn't realised this deprived fact sooner. Thinking like this made the whole situation worse and annoyingly more annoying. Why had she not considered the possibility that she would simply make matters worse by trying to root out the source of her sudden slowness to understand a fact that applied to many a situation she had faced while enduring her sixteen years on this doomed rock. She took to tapping her foot, to no avail of entertainment or reduction of boredom, resuming to stop seconds later. She simply needed something to do. Something time consuming that wouldn't bother the world outside and surrounding her room as they continued to recharge their thoughtless brains through patronising slumber.

She knew the idea of asking her snoring mother to take her shopping was as futile as trying to watch TV. After all it was half two in the morning and all the shops would be closed. Christina began to resent the non nocturnal shops and Time for forcing upon the world the ever malicious kraken; _closing hours_. She made a noise at this thought which she would describe as an audible exhale which exits the face via the nostrils that could also be interpreted as a sign of laughter similar to the snort a horse makes when it's annoyed which she followed with a mental sigh-roll which was her word for an eye roll and a sigh combined simultaneously. She air laughed again. Her mind's own complicated chatter was more than enough to entertain her she suddenly realised. Why had she not known this before either? She allowed a singular laugh escape her mouth as she reclined on her bed. She looked at the watch on the box next to her bed. It read twenty five to three in the morning. Great, about two hours before sunrise. She should have listened to her father's patronising remark to leave sleeping until later so she wouldn't wake up at one AM. Well, he still was wrong, by an hour and a half at the most. But she was still up and she had _school_ in the morning. Ugh, school, the thought of the word sent unpleasant nervous shivers down her spine. School.

School, the thing she had been dreading most of all since she found out that her parents were digging up her firmly rooted tree in Southwest England and dragging it all the way across the Atlantic Ocean to her 'future of opportunities' _Delaware_, A tiny state on the east coast of her '_new home_' _America_. At first she was elated at the exciting move, of all the new places she would be able to see, all the things she'd be able to do like being able to drive before all of her friends. But as the move drew closer she drew more and more resistant against it, upset about everything she'd be leaving behind. Her family, including Gran and Steph her favourite (don't tell the others) cousin. Her friends; Daniele, Becky, Sarah and everyone else in her school. Her old school.

Christina shook her head almost violently in an attempt to rid her thoughts of the cobwebs that signified school. She had to think about something else, something that wouldn't make her sad, angry or even board than she already was. She thought back to earlier on. What had she been thinking about before she sidetracked onto the dastardly subject of school? She knew whatever she'd thought about had made her laugh and launch herself onto her new bed. Of corse, she released another singular laugh, she'd been thinking about how amazing her mind was and how listening to her own inner monologue was entertainment enough for her and how she hadn't realised this as well as boredom being boring. She expected her head to be hurting with all these new discoveries emerging from within but it didn't, at least not yet any way. All these new revelations must have been linked to the move and all the new ventures she might encounter in this new environment. She was really looking forward to _those_ now. Her mind expressed another inner sigh-roll at this sarcastic thought and tried to look for other things to do to pair with thinking.

Her notepad beckoned her for what felt like the hundredth time that night, but as she had concluded earlier she was in no mood to write anything worth writing. She turned off her light to see if she'd feel sleepy again if it was dark closing her eyes as she did so she wouldn't get any kind of blurred aftershock of the sudden light change. Upon opening her eyes her face produced a scowl and her head snapped to stare at the light, thinking it would still be on, but was greeted by a dull surface with no light even peaking out. Feeling her brow furrow in confusion she slowly sat up and rotated her head searching for the source of the persistent light. The light, she found, was making its pilgrimage towards her eyes using her new room's bay window as a gateway. It was coming from a streetlight that housed itself on the other side of the round cul-de-sac that now also housed Christina. The fact that it was still on made her think, made her wonder why it was needed to be on at this time of night. Surely a cul-de-sac in the middle of, _where-ever-she-was_, suburbia would not be a hot spot for any kind nightwalkers. At least she thought that a cul-de-sac in the middle of suburbia would not be a hotspot for any kind of nightwalkers. This thought was way more interesting than any other thing that had passed through her mind that night. So interesting in fact, that Christina found herself getting up off her bed and making her way to sit in the bay window seat.


End file.
